


Fight the Break of Dawn

by HeartonFire



Series: Save Tonight [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dean Hates Witches, Dogs, Dom Dean, Dom/sub Undertones, Druids, F/M, Familiars, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Magic, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Sleeping Together, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: The Winchesters receive a call from an old friend and head back up to Boston. Things don't go exactly as they planned, but everything happens for a reason, right?





	Fight the Break of Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> My brain is kind of stuck in this universe, so here's the sequel no one asked for.

“Dean?” He nearly swerved off the road at the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in over a year.

“Callie?” He heard her sniffle and the hair on the back of his neck rose. “Callie, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, voice quavering. “My brother is missing.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “When did you last see him?”

“I didn’t. He was supposed to be coming to stay with me and he never showed. I haven’t heard from him in three days. Neither have my aunt and uncle. He lives with them.” Words were pouring out of her so fast he almost couldn’t make them out.

“And you think it’s our kind of thing?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know who else to call. The cops were no help.” She sounded frantic and Dean was already searching for a sign to turn off to turn around and head east, to Boston.

“We’re pretty far out from you right now, but we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He hung up and pressed his foot on the accelerator, the roar of the engine waking Sam up from a deep sleep.

“Whoa, Dean,” he said rubbing his eyes. “Where’s the fire?”

“Boston,” he grunted. “Callie needs us.”

Sam stared at him. “Callie? The druid teacher?” Dean nodded and Sam shrugged his shoulders back, settling into the seat. “Then I guess we have a long drive ahead of us. Where are we, anyway?”

“Just outside Columbus.”

 

* * *

 

After what felt like the longest hours of his life, they were pulling up outside Callie’s apartment building. He threw himself out of the car and jammed on the buzzer to her apartment. She buzzed them in and Dean took the stairs two at a time, Sam calling after him to slow down. He was at her door, banging on it, before Sam was even up the first flight.

“Dean?” Callie said, cracking the door open and peering at him, fear in her eyes. She seemed to be struggling with something as she opened the door, and when it was open, he saw why. What looked like a full-grown wolf was straining at her grip to get to them. It didn’t bark, but its eyes were narrowed and it didn’t exactly look friendly. “Aidan, it’s okay.” The wolf backed up and sat by the kitchen, staring unblinking at them.

“Callie,” he said, ignoring the wolf for the moment to pull her into a hug. She shook with sobs and he stroked her hair, wishing he knew what to say.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She pulled away, waving them inside. Dean looked around, aware that the rooms looked different than the last time he had been there. Plants lined the walls and there were tapestries hanging from the ceiling.

“You redecorated?” he asked gently. Sam glared at him, clearing his throat.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, blinking at the walls. “My mom found some of my grandmother’s old stuff. I thought it might help me tap into whatever we discovered last time you guys were here.”

“Did it work?” Sam asked, now looking curious.

Callie shrugged. “Sort of. I definitely feel more ‘in tune’ or whatever, but I’m drawing a blank here.”

“Right. So, your brother was supposed to be here today?” She nodded, biting her lip. “And you haven’t seen or heard from him?”

“Yeah. And that’s really not like him. We usually text every day.”

“And you think a spirit took him?”

“I don’t know. I think so? Something definitely did.”

“Okay. Why do you think so?” Sam asked, pulling out his laptop.

“There’s been weird energy around here for a while now.”

“What kind of weird energy?” Dean asked, stepping closer to her.

“Electricity, I guess. Like there’s tension in the air. Anger, maybe.”

“But why would that be attached to you?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know. I was reading up on druids and it might not have anything to do with me, but I have this terrible, gnawing, empty feeling that something is terribly wrong.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Sam said, smiling gently at her. “There has been some weird mojo around here,” he said, tapping on the keyboard. “Weird disturbances, a couple of mysterious deaths, and definitely some disappearances.”

Callie sank down on the couch, face in her hands. Dean glared at Sam and sat beside her, rubbing her back softly. He heard a sob as her body shook, and he pulled her in to rest her head on his shoulder. The wolf padded over and nudged her. She lifted a hand to stroke his huge head, and Dean couldn’t contain himself.

“What’s with the mutt?” he asked, and Callie laughed weakly. He was glad to see any expression besides sheer panic on her face.

“This is Aidan. He wasn’t this big when I got him.”

“How old is he?”

“Almost a year,” she said, not meeting his eyes. He stared at her and she sighed. “I got him because I didn’t really feel safe, knowing about what’s out there.”

“So, you got a wolf?”

She laughed again, and Dean smiled at the sound. “He’s not a wolf.”

“Sure looks like it,” Dean muttered. Aidan lifted his head and stared at him. “Does he make any noise or anything?”

Callie shook her head. “He’s pretty quiet. Just follows me around and makes sure nothing gets in.”

“Good boy,” Dean said, holding out a hand to pet him. Any dog that was protecting Callie was a good one in his book, even if it did look like a wild animal.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said, clearing his throat. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Dean shrugged, leaving Callie with her monstrous dog. “What’s up?”

“Seriously?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with this picture?” He held up a finger. “She has all these protective enchantments on her house.” He held up another. “She suddenly grew a green thumb for all these specific herbs she needs for spells?” He held up one more. “She has a freaking familiar, Dean.”

Dean scoffed, glancing over at the massive dog, and Sam rolled his eyes. “Listen, she got spooked by what happened the last time, so she built up some defenses. I’d say that’s a good thing.”

“If we didn’t already know her, you’d be itching to hunt a witch.”

He flinched. “She’s not a witch.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “She’s not. She’s a druid. It’s totally different.”

“How? How is it different?”

“I don’t see any black altars or hex bags or Callie trying to hurt anyone.”

Sam sighed. “That’s true.”

“And I doubt she ganked her own brother.”

“I guess.”

“So, can you tell me what you’ve found about what might be doing all of this?”

 

* * *

 

Soon enough, they were all back in the Impala, like no time had passed. Sam’s words echoed in Dean’s head as he drove and he glanced back at Callie, who was staring out the window, eyes far away, head propped on her hand. There was something different about her, but it only made him feel like he was being magnetically drawn to her.

“You sure you don’t want to stay here?” Dean said quietly, as he pulled to a stop a block away from a place called Proctor’s Ledge. Sam was reasonably sure this was the location of a new coven and their altar, seeking revenge for the wrongs of the past.

Callie raised her eyebrows. “What do you think, Dean?” Her chin jutted up at him and he grinned. Just like old times.

“Fine. But stay behind us and don’t go wandering off,” he said, and her eyes narrowed.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Sam beat her to it. “Witches can be real nasty pieces of work,” he said, and she deflated a little.

“Nastier than shapeshifters?”

“Way nastier,” Sam said, and handed her a pistol. She hesitated, but took it, and Dean watched her put it in her pocket.

“Still not into guns,” she said quietly. “But I know how useful they can be, so fine.”

“Let’s go,” Dean hissed, waving at the two of them to look at the lights flickering among the trees. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the forest was on fire.

They crept towards the lights, ignoring the informational sign that had been put up for the tourists who flocked to town every year. Muffled voices speaking another language echoed through the trees, bouncing off the stone monument that had been built to commemorate the executed.

Dean waved at Callie to stay behind a tree while he and Sam split up and swept around the edges to see what they were dealing with. She took out the pistol and nodded, though there was a fire in her eyes that had nothing to do with the ritual in front of them.

He went left, Sam went right, and he glanced back to make sure Callie was alright. Her eyes were fixed on the flames above the altar and he thought he saw her mouth moving as she traced shapes on the bark of the tree with her finger.

Shaking his head, he focused on the job at hand. One of the witches was standing in the center of the circle, at least a dozen witches around her while she chanted the incantation. An unconscious body lay on the altar in front of her, a dark stain spreading from beneath it, and he had a sinking feeling he knew who it was. He caught Sam’s eye from across the circle and they doubled back, meeting again at Callie’s tree.

“What’s the plan?” she whispered, looking from Sam to Dean.

“I’ve never seen a coven this big,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder at the collection of women standing there.

“So, what do we do?”

“I have a plan,” Dean said, focusing on what he wanted to happen, and not what was likely to happen instead. “But Callie, I have to insist that you stay here and cover us.”

Her eyes flared again. “And why is that, Dean?”

“Because if things go wrong, we need somebody on the outside.”

She glared at him, but swallowed whatever she was going to say and nodded shortly.

“Sam, we go back the way we just did. Try to take out the main witch. Then get the rest of them. We can try to get at least one of them to talk, once the leader is dead.”

Sam nodded, checking his gun and heading back out into the trees.

Dean turned to Callie, taking her face in his hands. “Please, promise me you’ll stay here.”

She nodded again, pulling away from him. Sighing, he headed out in the opposite direction to Sam, eyes fixed on his target. He had a shot and was lined up to take it, when the witch turned and stared right at him, blowing the gun out of his hands. He slammed against a tree and felt all the air leave his lungs. He scrabbled at his neck, trying to catch his breath, but he couldn’t. In a few moments, he was fighting the dark spots in his vision that were creeping in to take him out of consciousness.

And then, suddenly, he was crumpled on the ground, gasping for air, a gray shape lunging at the circle. Just as he lost consciousness, he saw what looked like a wolf tearing at the leader’s throat, spraying dark blood across the stones.

When he came to, Callie was kneeling beside him, his head in her lap. She was stroking his hair and he could see tears welling in her eyes.

“Dean?” she said, voice shaky.

“I’m okay,” he said, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “I’m okay.” And with that, he went out again.

 

* * *

 

He woke again in the hospital, monitors beeping and someone sitting beside him. “Callie?” he mumbled.

“No, just me,” Sam said, sitting up straighter when he saw that Dean was awake.

“Where’s Callie?”

“Calling her aunt and uncle,” Sam said, looking down at the floor.

“Her brother?” His throat felt scratchy and sore, and he reached for the cup of water on the table, wincing at the bruises he could feel on his ribs. Sam shook his head and Dean sank back against the pillows.

“He didn’t make it. We were too late.” Dean punched the mattress, rage coursing through his body.

“Freaking witches,” he muttered. The rest of the curses he wanted to scream died in his throat as Callie walked through the door.

She looked smaller, somehow, than he had ever seen her. Fragile, almost, like a strong gust of wind would shatter her into a million pieces. The fire in her eyes that he loved so much seemed to have gone out, and she blinked slowly at him, like she didn’t recognize him or know where she was.

“Callie,” he said, but she shook her head.

“It’s not your fault, Dean,” she said, but her voice was too even, too robotic. “You did all you could.” She wasn’t crying, but this was worse. He knew this feeling, and he knew it would eat her alive if she let it. “I have to go. Thank you for your help.”

And then, she was gone, vanished like she had never been there at all. Sam smiled sadly at him, rolling his shoulders back to get more comfortable in the stiff chair.

“What happened?” Dean croaked, staring at the door, willing Callie to reappear. She didn’t.

“We got made,” Sam said, shaking his head. “There were too many of them and they were too strong.”

“Was I hallucinating, or did I see Aidan come in and take out the leader?”

Sam shook his head again. “No, you saw right. I don’t know how he got there so fast, but he took out the leader and the rest of them scattered before I could catch one. By the time I got to the altar, Noah was barely hanging on. I called 911, but they were too late. They called it on the way to the hospital.”

“So, the rest of those witches are still out there?” he growled, and Sam nodded.

“Yeah, but I don’t think they’ll be so eager to work any more spells after they saw what happened to the main one.”

“We have to catch them. We owe that to Callie.”

“Dean, there were a dozen of them. How are we supposed to track them all down?”

Dean glared at his brother. “I don’t know, but we’ll do it. We have to.”

“I guess I’ll get to work,” Sam sighed, unfolding himself from the chair and heading for the door.

“I’m coming with you. Just let me get out of here first.”

“Dean, you need to rest. You just almost died. Again.”

He shook his head, pulling off the monitor on his finger. A nurse rushed in and scowled at him when she saw what had happened.

“Where do you think you’re going, sir?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“I’m going home,” he said, fiddling with his IV.

“Sir!” the nurse shouted, swatting his hands away. “Alright, I’ll take care of this, but don’t overexert yourself. Your body needs time to recover.”

He nodded, mumbling something in agreement, and Sam waited outside while he got dressed. He pulled his boots onto his feet and laced them, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to get out to the car and start researching.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t sleep for two days, as they combed through all the lore and information they could find on actual Salem witches. It was hard to tell what was really witchcraft and what was touristy garbage, but they chased down every lead.

Finally, when he was dead on his feet, chugging coffee like it was water, Sam made him sit down. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, tossing aside the empty cup.

“You’re killing yourself over this. Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why this case? We’ve lost civilians before.”

“This wasn’t just any civilian,” Dean said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Callie’s brother was the only family she had left.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his shaggy, dark hair. “I know, and I know how that feels, but we can’t bring him back.”

“No,” Dean agreed, shaking his head. “But we can get her some justice.”

“Well, this is our last lead, so I hope it pans out.” He held out a scrap of paper with an address on it and Dean stared at it.

“The Witch Museum?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s the only place in town we haven’t looked. Where better to hide a coven in plain sight?”

Dean shrugged, grabbing his jacket. “Then let’s go.”

The museum was closed after dark, so they lingered outside until the curator left the building. The outside was lit up with spotlights, so they skirted around the back and jimmied the lock until it opened. Stepping silently inside, they pulled out their guns. Dean waved to Sam that he would check downstairs while Sam swept the upper floor. Sam nodded, and they split up.

He hadn’t anticipated the wax figures when he turned the corner into the museum proper, and his heart almost stopped when he thought someone was staring at him from across the room. Breathing hard, he pulled himself together. Some stupid statue wasn’t going to scare _the_ Dean Winchester.

Turning another corner, he saw what he was after. Lights glowed behind a door towards the back of the building. Raising his gun, he headed towards it, hoping Sam would be finished upstairs soon to be his backup. He had just reached the door when a hand reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Jesus!” he hissed, whirling to find, not Sam, but Callie. She looked different, focused. “Callie, what are you doing here?”

“Same as you,” she whispered, pulling out the gun they had given her. “And I’m not staying behind,” she said, fire back in her eyes.

“Understood. I’ll go in first, and you cover me, okay?”

She nodded, and he pushed open the door to see several witches standing over another altar, chanting together with their eyes closed.

He shot one in the knee, then another, and he heard a scuffle behind him as Callie overtook a third, wrapping an arm around her throat as she dragged her away from the altar. The rest of the witches fell back together, eyes darting around as they looked for another exit.

“Stop, please!” the witch screamed. “Please, don’t hurt us!”

Callie’s eyes flared. “Don’t hurt you? Like you didn’t hurt my brother?”

The witch she was holding looked stunned into silence and Callie pressed her gun to her captive’s temple. The woman was shaking and breathing hard, but Callie didn’t loosen her grip.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice taking on an edge Dean had never heard from her before. “Who are you?”

“My name is Avery Montgomery,” the woman said, voice shaking and weak.

“Why did you kill my brother?”

“I didn’t, I swear. He was alive when we left.”

“ _Why did you kill my brother?_ ” Callie demanded, tightening her grip on the woman’s throat.

Avery swallowed hard. “Morrigan said we needed the power in his blood to avenge the deaths of our sisters from so long ago. She said it was going to help all of us.”

“He was a child!” Callie said, tears streaking down her face, though her voice was steady. “He was seventeen years old. _Seventeen_.”

“I’m so sorry,” Avery sobbed. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know.”

“So, what, you just followed blindly? You killed a teenager and you didn’t even think about it?”

Avery couldn’t speak, her tears choking her. The other witches were shivering in the corner, eyes flicking back from Dean’s gun to Callie.

“Listen, ladies,” Dean said, trying to calm things down. “You killed an innocent boy, for no other reason than some bitch told you to. She’s dead now, which is what she deserves.”

“That’s what all of you deserve,” Callie growled, gun flush with Avery’s temple.

“They deserve to be punished,” Dean agreed, holding up a hand to Callie. “So, here’s what we do. We call the cops and send them to jail for a very long time.”

“The cops?” Callie choked out, blinking at him. Sam slid into the room quietly, and she looked at the two of them. “You want to call the cops who didn’t even help me look for Noah, and have them take care of this? All of them deserve to die for what they did, and all they have to do is say they didn’t know, that it was all Morrigan’s idea. And she’s dead, so who can say it wasn’t?” She loosened her grip on Avery, gun falling to her side as she sobbed in earnest.

Avery scurried away to huddle with her coven, and Dean pointed at them. “They’re human, Callie. Just like you and me. The leader was an old-school witch. Sam and I did some research on her. She enchanted all of them, put them under her spell. They really didn’t know.”

“They still killed him!” Callie cried, crumpling against the wall. “They still killed my brother!”

Sam took Dean’s place, covering the witches, while Dean put an arm around Callie. “I know. I know they did. And they’ll pay for that.”

“We’ll never do it again,” Avery squeaked, and Callie looked up at her, nearly snarling.

“Oh, yeah? You won’t murder a teenager _again_? I guess that’s okay then.”

“Sam, call the cops. We’ll lock them in here and they’ll take care of it.”

Callie was shaking. “And if any of you thinks about denying it, or saying you didn’t do it, I will know. I will know and I will find you.” She stared at each of them, as if memorizing their faces. They whimpered in terror and nodded frantically.

“We’re going to lock you in. When the cops get here, I suggest you tell them everything,” Dean said, guiding Callie out of the room and towards the car.

 

* * *

 

Callie didn’t say a word as they drove back to her apartment. She stared out the window, and Dean knew she was still thinking about what had happened back there. They got to her apartment building and Sam mumbled something about finding them a motel room. Dean walked Callie up to her apartment and was greeted by a growling Aidan when they opened the door.

“Can you call him off?” he said, backing up against the door as the massive dog approached.

“Aidan, enough.” It was like a switch turned off, and Aidan trailed after Callie, ignoring Dean completely.

“Callie,” he said, staring at her back as she filled Aidan’s bowl with water. “Please, talk to me.”

She whirled around, eyes flashing. “Talk to you. About what, Dean?”

“I know how you feel. I really do.”

“Really? Because last time I checked, Sam was still alive and kicking.”

Dean shrugged. He didn’t really want to get into the details at this point. The last thing he needed was for her to find a crossroads and make herself a deal.

“I know what it’s like to only have a little bit of family left. And I know what it’s like to lose that.”

She scowled, stroking Aidan’s head. Her hands were shaking and he took a step towards her, ignoring the low rumble from the dog’s throat.

“I know that you want revenge. I get it. I really do.” He took her hands and she stared down at the floor. “But trust me, revenge doesn’t give you closure. I’ve tried it, and it just turns into a downward spiral.”

“So, what do you recommend?” she asked, through gritted teeth.

Glancing around, he spotted a bottle of amber liquid on the top shelf. He leaned over to get it and felt Callie’s eyes on him. He grabbed two glasses and poured out a shot into each.

“Here.”

She raised her eyebrows, but downed the alcohol with hardly a grimace.

“Another?” he asked, holding up the bottle. She nodded, he poured, and soon enough, they were four shots deep and working on a fifth.

Callie staggered over the couch, Dean’s hand on her elbow. She stared at the liquid in her glass, eyes glassy. Dean let his fingers trail through her long hair. She leaned against him and mumbled something.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he said gently, and she tilted her face up to look at him. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, studying the little flecks of gold in the dark brown.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?” he asked, as she nuzzled against his hand. He tried to stay focused.

“For stopping me.” Tears welled in her eyes again. One slid down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb, her skin soft under his touch. “I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know,” he said, and she blinked up at him, teardrops glistening on her long eyelashes. “I know, honey.” She leaned towards him and he couldn’t help himself. He did what he had wanted to do since he heard her voice on the phone. He kissed her, gently at first, but when she opened her mouth to him, he pulled her into his lap, kissing down her neck to her collarbone.

She gasped, arching her body into the touch and running her fingers through his hair. His hands fell to her hips, tightening around her as she ground into him. He shifted, the friction already getting to be too much for him.

Dean growled, lifting her in his arms to carry her to the bedroom. Callie squealed, wrapping her legs around him and nipping at his neck. Banging the door open, he dropped her on the bed, peeling off his jacket and shirt as fast as he could manage. Callie stripped off her shirt and unhooked her bra, but before she could shed her jeans, he took her wrists in his hand and held them over her head.

“Allow me, princess.”

Sliding her jeans slowly down her legs, he pressed kisses to each inch of skin as it was revealed. Mewling cries tumbled out of Callie’s mouth and Dean smiled, dropping the fabric on the floor and kissing back up to her thighs. He parted them and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them slowly downward. He held her hips down when she arched against him, kissing her hipbones, her belly button, pausing just before his tongue touched her clit. She whimpered and he grinned again, finally pressing against her center, circling it in the way he knew she liked.

“Dean,” she breathed, writhing underneath him. “Dean, I need you.”

He didn’t need telling twice, but he couldn’t stop until she went over the edge. He could feel her legs tensing and pressed a finger at her entrance, hooking it to hit her sweet spot and she choked back a scream. Dean held her legs against his shoulders and worked that spot until she couldn’t contain the screams anymore and came, shuddering and breathing hard.

He gave her a minute to recover, before climbing up to kiss her. She smiled, fingers trailing down his back to scratch him with her nails, and he hissed, pushing her hands above her head again.

“Stay there,” he growled, looking at her for a moment to make sure she was okay with it. She smiled at him and he kissed her, hard, before going through his pockets to get a condom. He rolled it on and looked at her, laid out on the bed, hands clasped over her head, and he had never seen anything so hot.

He pulled her legs around his waist and teased her with the head, just pressing against her enough to get her hips snapping up towards him again. He backed off, smiling down at her and she bit her lip, whining a little.

“Please, Dean, please,” she moaned. He eased inside her and groaned at the feeling of her walls, so tight around him he knew he wouldn’t last long. He slid out slowly, grinding his hips against her. Her hands fell into his hair and he stilled, earning himself another whimper from her.

“I told you to stay there,” he said, kissing her gently and putting her hands back over her head. “If you move again, I’m going to have to find a way to stop you.”

She squirmed, smile fading into a rumbling moan when he started moving again. He took his time, savoring the feeling of her underneath him, but he couldn’t do that forever. He sped up, Callie meeting each thrust with her own, and he felt his climax building. He licked his thumb and pressed it to her clit, driving her over the edge again, and he collapsed on top of her, whispering her name.

She stroked his hair and he tried to slow his breathing, rolling off her to dispose of the condom and clean himself up a little. He crawled back into bed, pulling her against his side, and she nuzzled into him, falling asleep almost instantly. He could hear Aidan padding into the room, nails clicking on the wooden floor and he stuck his hand out to pat the massive dog’s head. Aidan lay down beside the bed and seemed to go to sleep as well.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, trying not to let the guilt of what had happened to Callie’s brother consume him. He hadn’t slept in days, and he felt the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids.

He finally gave in, sleeping until the sunlight was pouring into the room and Callie was tracing her fingers through his hair.

“Morning, sunshine,” he mumbled and the wide smile on her face made the crick in his neck worth it. She kissed him on the cheek and he felt his whole body flush with pleasure.

He touched her wrist, where five circles were intersecting in a new tattoo. “New ink?”

“It’s a symbol for the balance of the four elements. It helps me stay centered,” she said, showing him more clearly. “This one is for protection and purification. Kind of like yours,” she said, flipping her other wrist to show him a cross in a circle and touching his chest, right where his anti-possession tattoo lay. He kissed her skin and she smiled, stroking his cheek.

“So, I was thinking.”

“You were?” she said, giggling at his playful poke to her side.

“Yes, I was.” She raised her eyebrows at him and he kissed her, morning breath be damned. “What would you say to coming with us?”

She leaned back, eyes wide. “What? Like, on the road?”

He nodded, measuring her reaction. “Yeah. You’re good in a tight spot, and a break might be good for you.”

“So, what, I just quit my job and jump in the backseat of your car?” she asked, blinking at him.

“Does that sound so bad?”

She thought for a moment and smiled, shaking her head. “No. You know, it doesn’t. Especially now.” She paused for a moment. “Let me make a couple of calls, and I’ll think about it.”

“Sure,” he said, nodding. She stood, wrapping a blanket around herself and headed for the kitchen. He heard her voice, low and urgent, and the rattle of kibble into Aidan’s bowl. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he answered it on the third ring.

“Sam?”

“Hey, Dean. Bobby called. He has a case for us.”

“Where?”

“Albany.”

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Alright. Listen, I need some time. I asked Callie if she wants to come with us.”

“You did what?” Sam asked. He didn’t sound angry, exactly, but surprised was too gentle a word.

“We could use her help,” he grunted, suddenly aware that Callie was back in the doorway, leaning against the wall and smiling at him. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you in a bit.”

“Let me guess,” she said. “You have to go?”

“You coming with us?” he asked, taking her hands to pull her down beside him.

Callie took a deep breath and Dean braced himself.

“Yeah, I think I am. I think _we_ are,” she said, nodding at Aidan. “Let me get my stuff.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave any comments you have!


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